


Unsettled

by Reyn



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Bat Family, Brother Feels, M/M, Soul-Searching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 14:31:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10362537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyn/pseuds/Reyn
Summary: inspired by the Red Robin series, in which it’s implied Ra’s Al Ghul wants Tim’s babies, the same way he wanted Bruce’s babies.Damian isn’t okay with that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Two things to note here: 
> 
> 1\. This was written years ago, before the issues of Damian being killed and brought back were released. (So...pre-New52?)
> 
> 2\. The pairings listed are meant to be brotherly. I'm a believer in using ship tags to represent all forms of a relationship, and in this story, it is all about the family feels.

 

His father hadn’t listened to him. Again.

If Damian were to be honest with himself, Bruce had all the reason in the world not to listen to him, considering the way he had been acting recently. But that was completely beside the point. The point was, he had recognized a pattern in one of the cases his father had been investigating and since this involved detective work, he should have been granted a break in the silent treatment to get his point across.

Note to self: Crashing the new Batmobile on purpose in order to gain attention was a bad idea in the long run. Especially when there were unforeseeable risks like these in the more or less immediate future.

Noticing a subtle breeze drift through the hall, Damian moved to the shadows, closing his cloak around him to conceal the blaring red of his costume. Several minutes later, a lone figure walked by, his generic ninja outfit marking him as a simple lackey. He paused as he passed Damian’s hiding place and the young man made it a point not to move as the ninja almost casually glanced over his shoulder before continuing down the hall.

Amateur. Never hint that you know an enemy’s position if you hope to take them by surprise.

Stepping out into the open, Damian’s gaze flickered back and forth. The ninja appeared to be gone. Throwing as much strength into it as he could, he jumped up in a spinning kick and grinned as his foot successfully connected with the ninja’s head before the man could initiate a surprise attack from behind. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough and it took a few well-aimed punches before the opponent finally collapsed against the wall and slid to the floor unconscious.

As Damian glared down at the worthless bit of trash who dared to try and sneak up on him, he noticed his boots poking out from the bottom of his cape. No wonder he had been spotted. While he was pleased that he was finally gaining some real height on the cusp of adulthood, these constant growth spurts were becoming a serious problem in the clothing department.

Continuing on his way, Damian soon found the room he was looking for. It was unguarded which, while highly unusual, wasn’t all that surprising. Perhaps he was expected.

Pushing open the door, he breathed in deeply and was hit with a wave of nearly overwhelming nostalgia. The smell of the desert sand and sea intermingled with the unique blend of incense that was stored near Lazarus pits would always be home for him. Almost against his will, Damian felt his body relax as he realized nothing about the room had changed over the years. The exotic furniture, the far too many pillows piled everywhere, the sheer tapestries that decorated the wall and sectioned off the room into various areas, the pointless fountain that took up most of the entryway…

Avoiding the mosaic tile that surrounded the fountain, Damian listened past the murmur of water and could hear a woman’s voice. Smirking, he subtly reached out and knocked a pillow off the duvet and onto the floor. The voice continued without interruption and Damian scowled. The barely audible noise had gone unnoticed. With a swift kick, the pillow went sailing through the air and landed in the fountain with a gentle splash. The voice finally faltered and Damian returned to smirking, confident he had finally gotten the attention he was seeking.

“Your senses aren’t as sharp as they used to be when it came to noticing me.” Pushing back the hood of his Robin outfit, Damian turned in time to face the new presence as it walked through the beaded curtains. “Hello, Mother.”

The woman before him looked just as beautiful as she did when he last saw her nearly five years ago.

“Damian…” Her eyes flitted about the room.

“I came alone.” The annoyance that colored Damian’s tone successfully brought Talia’s attention back to him.

“He trusts you that explicitly?” she asked in mild surprise.

 _Not in a million years_. “Of course.”

At this, Talia smiled and stepped towards her son. “Look how much you’ve grown. Take off your mask?”

Damian obeyed the request without question, standing tall and proud as his mother took in his appearance, no doubt comparing him to the only man she had ever loved.

Approval shone in her eyes as she placed her hands on his shoulders. “Perfect. Just the way I intended for you to be. Although, judging from your choice in clothing, you still have yet to come to your senses.”

Carefully removing his mother’s hands, Damian sighed. “I came to my senses a long time ago, Mother. I’m just sad to learn that you never came to yours.”

With a ‘tsk’, Talia pulled back and brushed her hair over her shoulder. “Why are you here?” She walked towards the open balcony before turning around with her arms crossed. “I warned you once of the consequences of your return.”

“The Oz Project,” Damian stated, cutting straight to the chase to avoid the sharp pang of disappointment over his mother’s rejection. “You need to call it off.”

Talia blinked, obviously not expecting her son to know the name of any of her plans, let alone demand she put a stop to one of them. “And why should I?”

“Because it’s caught the attention of Batman Incorporated and if they figure out you’re behind it all—”

“Ha! My Beloved would never intentionally harm me,” Talia interrupted.

“You don’t understand; this is an entire corporation,” Damian did his best to patiently explain. “You’ve taken things too far this time and—”

“Moth—?”

Damian whipped around, batarang concealed in his fist at the unexpected voice.

“—er?”

It was a child, no older than four or five, leaving Damian feeling ridiculously embarrassed that he had let his guard drop to the point that a lowly servant boy could slip by. And then his brain registered the child’s words and he turned back to his mother.

“What did he call you?” he breathed, fighting back his disbelief.

Talia calmly walked by him and moved behind the boy. “Damian, this is my son.” She wrapped an arm around his small frame.

Damian stared as an unexpected hurt welled up in his chest. He knew his mother had been in the process of having another child when he walked out so long ago. He just didn’t think it would affect him this deeply now. But there was something off about the similarities of this boy. Familiar blue eyes, familiar pursed mouth, familiar gangly shoulders – all familiar, but all wrong. Why?

“He’s not my clone,” Damian voiced his conclusion. “Or my brother.”

“And you’re not my father,” the boy shot back before twisting his head to look up at Talia. “I thought you said Father was Robin.”

“ _Was_ , dear,” Talia corrected. “He has obviously passed the mantle on and gone off to do bigger and greater things.”

Damian was quick to catch on and his stomach dropped in a way that made him nauseous. “Timothy Drake? You replaced me with Drake's child?” He could feel his anger rising like bile in this throat. “That man is incompetent, soft-hearted, and would be dead by my hand sixty-seven times over if Richard or Father weren’t there to stop me!”

“He is a great detective and your grandfather had decided him to be more than worthy.” Talia’s grip on the boy’s shoulders tightened and Damian wanted to gag.

There had to be some kind of irony in the way his position as an Al Ghul was being replaced by Drake’s seed. But Damian wasn’t about to let things go as a total loss. In a move that his mother might not have appreciated, but would have been proud of nonetheless, he turned the tables.

“End the Oz Project. Or I inform Drake of what you’ve done.”

Talia’s eyes narrowed challengingly. “What makes you so sure he doesn’t already know?”

It was a valid question, especially since up until now, Damian would have bet the entire Wayne fortune on Drake being either gay or asexual. The fact that he was wrong wasn’t nearly as shocking as the knowledge that Drake had failed to be careful enough to actually keep tabs on whomever he had a night of passion with.

Damian’s eyes drifted down to the boy, whose schooled expression failed to give anything away. With a sharp smirk, Damian reached behind his neck and brought his hood up. “Because there’s no force in time or the universe that would stop him from hunting his family down and bringing them back.”

He opted to exit via the balcony, telling himself that it was simply easier and not because he was trying to impress the little Drake-spawn.

+

Damian had originally stopped trying to kill Drake back when he was twelve. He had no idea why, seeing as how he still held the same level of contempt for the man. Maybe puberty was to blame.  But in the last week alone, Damian had tampered with the training equipment, cut the brake lines of every single vehicle Drake preferred to drive, and slipped a black mamba into his room. His renewed homicide attempts finally came close to success when he poisoned Drake's tea.

Rather than feeling triumphant, Damian was merely irked by the twinge of guilt that hovered in the back of his mind, prompting him to force the antidote down the idiot’s throat. Unfortunately, Batman wasn’t called the world’s greatest detective for nothing and Damian found himself under lockdown in his room until all traces of toxins were confirmed clear from Drake's system.

It was just as unfortunate that Bruce Wayne had never won any father of the year awards. He didn’t even own a #1 DAD mug, which was odd considering the number of charity cases he had taken in.

The only reason such a thought had entered Damian’s mind was because his father had entered the room as Bruce Wayne and not Batman.

“Care to explain why you’ve regressed to the habit of trying to kill Tim?”

That was the only part of the conversation Damian clearly remembered. He didn’t know why he was trying to take Drake's life again. Petty revenge for providing a means for his mother to replace him didn’t quite cover it. At least, he didn’t _think_ that quite covered it.

He considered breaking his word to his mother and telling his father everything until Bruce made the mistake of climbing up on his high horse and making all sorts of assumptions. None of them sat well with Damian and the following argument was loud and long, ending with his father deciding to ship him off to stay with Dick until he came to his senses.

“I have all my senses! You’re the one who’s blind.” That was another part of the night he remembered with crystal clarity. In hindsight, though, he didn’t expect his father to understand considering he didn’t even know what the hell he meant.

But now here he was, standing at Dick’s door, not wanting to knock, but knowing full well that if he didn’t soon, Dick would come barging out to search for him since Alfred no doubt called ahead from the car to announce his presence.

He knocked and felt his anger rise when it took Dick more than eight seconds to answer the door.

“Hey!” Dick looked genuinely surprised to see him, despite the multitude of warnings he had been given about Damian’s expected presence. He gave the younger man a customary once-over. “Good to see your hair at a healthy length.”

Damian scowled. The last time he had seen Dick was nearly six months ago, when he decided hair wasn’t worth the trouble and shaved it all off. Nightwing had laughed so hard at Robin’s ‘bald look’ that he actually fell off the gargoyle ledge he had been perched on. Damian decided to give his hair a second chance after that and was glad no one dared to say anything considering how gung-ho he had originally been about wanting to be bald.

“If I find hints of a woman’s anything in my room, I will castrate you in your sleep,” Damian announced as he brushed by Dick and made his way into the apartment.

“If a woman were to visit, why would I have her staying in the guestroom?”

Damian smirked as he looked back at Dick. “Because the spare space on your bed is already being warmed by a decidedly different flavor of the week.” Turning, Damian headed off towards the spare bedroom. “Speaking of, if I find even a trace of another man anywhere in this apartment, I will hunt him down and castrate you both.”

He ignored Dick’s sigh, but nearly paused at his comeback. “Guess this means I better hide the condoms.”

+

Past experience taught Damian that he would be allowed a maximum of five hours to sulk before Dick started to be annoying on purpose. While he very much wanted to sulk, Damian was brimming with too much emotion. Deciding that five hours was too long, he threw his bag on the bed and marched back out of the room, intent on finding Dick so they could talk now and just get it over with.

He found him exiting the master bedroom, a box of condoms in hand.

Damian suddenly didn’t feel much like talking anymore.

Noticing where his brother’s stare was directed, Dick laughed sheepishly and shuffled the box between his hands before settling on crossing his arms in an attempt to hide it. “You either had the Flash sneak in to help you unpack or you don’t plan on sticking around for long.”

Damian had no idea why the concept of his surrogate brothers having sex bothered him so much. Lord knew he was fine with his father’s playboy ways.

“Towels,” he blurted, glaring up at Dick.

“I gave you towels. They’re sitting on your bed.”

Damian stubbornly crossed his arms. “I don’t like them.” His stance made it clear this was an argument Dick wouldn’t win.

With a sigh, Dick ran a hand through his hair and led the way to the linen closet. “Nothing but the best for his Majesty,” he muttered as he sifted through the neatly folded piles, pulling out the fluffiest set he could find.

Damian barely reacted as the towel was shoved into his chest. He was fairly positive he had lost all claims to any royal heritage of the Ra’s Al Ghul empire long ago. And Drake's child only further cemented the fact.

“Hn. Thanks.” Clutching his towel as he turned to leave, Damian failed to notice Dick’s double-take at his verbal gratitude.

Once back in his room, Damian sat on the edge of his bed and frowned thoughtfully down at the towel.

Dick was an active participant in sex.

But Drake having sex simply meant there was something wrong with the world. Dick having sex…Damian didn’t want Dick to be having sex. Because…because why?

Because Dick had slowed down enough to be a one person kind of man. If he was having sex, it most likely meant he was in a relationship. And if he was in a relationship, then that meant he trusted his partner. And if he trusted them, he probably loved them. Considering Dick’s double life, he didn’t go into things on a whim. Which meant if he loved someone and was in a relationship, he was thinking long term. And that meant he was looking to focus on supporting a family.

Well, what the hell was wrong with the family he already had?

Damian had always caused enough problems to warrant at least partial focus from everyone, didn’t he? Or maybe that was the problem. Everyone was getting tired of him acting out. His mother grew tired of it and disowned him. His father grew tired of it and passed him off to Dick. What would Dick do if he went too far?

He already tried sending him to join Teen Titans once and he sent himself back. Because when it came to making friends, Drake actually surpassed Damian with ease in that area.

Throwing his towel angrily at the wall, Damian decided he was completely over-thinking the matter. The condoms were probably there for undercover missions and such. But then why would Dick feel the need to actually hide them?

God damn it.

+

“Why didn’t you come looking for me?”

Nightwing froze and slowly straightened from his hunched position in the fridge, turning to reveal his face stuffed with some early morning snack.

Damian simply crossed his arms and impatiently waited for the man to swallow his food.

“You went patrolling?” Dick’s frown was directed towards the living room where his laptop was, no doubt wondering why he hadn’t received an alert about anyone leaving or entering the premises.

“I’m talking about when I first arrived,” Damian clarified. “When it took me longer than the standard four minutes and thirty-two seconds to reach your door from street level via a normal route.”

It took a few seconds for the full implications of the inquiry to sink in, and when it did, the whites of Nightwing’s domino mask widened. “Oh, shit. Dami—”

“I’m not looking for your sympathy,” Damian cut in sharply. “I’m looking for an answer to my question.”

With a sigh, Dick peeled off his mask and ran a hand through his hair. “Because I figured you were going to pull another disappearing act like the one you did two weeks ago. I thought you would appreciate a bit of a head start before I was forced to track you down.”

Damian blinked, finding the confession to be oddly thoughtful. But then again, this was Grayson. He made it his mission in life to be kind and thoughtful to all of humanity.

With a scoff, Damian turned so that he could lean back against the countertop and scowl at the calendar on the wall. “As if you could find me if I didn’t want you to.”

Dick breathed out a laugh and ruffled Damian’s hair in that way that he hated but tolerated regardless as he walked passed him into the living room. “Oh yeah? How’s your mom doing, by the way?”

Damian stiffened and whirled to face Dick’s retreating form.

“Father knows?” he demanded as Dick began to carelessly strip on his way through the living room.

In a perfect display of balance, Dick struggled to pull the spandex off from his heel without falling over. “I’d say no, but seeing as how he’s Batman…”

Damian frowned, not at all appreciating this moment of confusion. “Then how do you know?”

“You really hold next to no regard for my investigative skills, do you?” The suit sprang off Dick’s foot and he quickly released it, allowing it to soar through the air.

Crossing his arms, Damian’s answer was both straightforward and prompt. “No. Drake is the investigative one. Father is the detective. You are the pretty boy who is an ocean of worthless knowledge that just happens to come in handy in our line of work.”

Nude as the day he was born, Dick leaned a hip against the couch and mimicked Damian’s crossing of arms. “You think I’m pretty?”

Refusing to be baited, Damian rolled his eyes and pushed off from the counter. “I hope you wash that thing.” He motioned at the discarded suit as he passed it by, intent on heading to his room, but froze at his brother’s next words.

“You still haven’t told me how your mom’s doing.”

Damian hesitated. A surprisingly large part of him wanted to talk – to open up and share all these feelings of disappointment and self-doubt. But how did one even put such thoughts into words without sounding like an idiot?

Sensing he had a chance, Dick spoke up. “If I put pants on, will you talk to me?”

Damian scoffed and turned around to head back to the couch. “I’m not some prude,” he claimed as he sat and rested his clenched fists in his lap.

Dick was wise enough to keep whatever comments he had to himself as he grabbed a throw blanket and wrapped it loosely around his waist.

“So…what happened?” he asked as he took a seat next to his younger brother.

Damian stared down at his hands as he sorted through events before at last opening his mouth. “I can’t tell you,” he blurted.

“Okay,” Dick dragged out after several seconds of silence. “Is there a reason why?”

Damian’s upper lip curled. “Yes.” Of course he had a reason. When had he ever acted without?

“You know, a bit of elaboration is necessary for this talk to work.”

Scowling at the humor in Dick’s voice, Damian tried to explain himself from a different angle.

“Despite my loyalty to this family, I made a deal with my mother that I’m sworn to secrecy for unless she fails to uphold her end of the bargain.”

Dick nodded thoughtfully. “Fair enough.”

“Really?” Damian failed to keep the surprise from his tone.

“Sure.” Dick gave a half-shrug. “Family’s important. It’s where your first and foremost loyalty will always lie, which is why it sucks when family members fight. Moreso for you, since your parents exist on opposite ends of the spectrum.”

“Hm.” Damian slouched down on the couch and stared at the coffee table. “Do you think if my loyalties were ever in question that Father would replace me?” He did his best to ignore the wide-eyed look Dick was giving him.

“Well, in all honesty, the position of Robin is one to be taken fairly seriously, so if he were to harbor any doubts—”

“I’m not talking about Robin.” Damian cut in. Honestly, why did everyone believe his ambitions were limited solely to being Robin?

“Then…what? You think Bruce would replace you as his son?” Dick looked properly outraged. “Damian, you’re his _son_. I mean, okay, we’re all his sons, but you’re his flesh and blood! Why would you even think that?”

Damian shrugged and took a moment to note that the back of his eyes were lightly burning. “There’s always the chance he’ll pick up another charity case off the street.”

Dick’s mouth flapped soundlessly. “What the hell kind of tug of war do your parents have you in?” he asked incredulously. At Damian’s refusal to answer, Dick ran a hand through his hair and slouched as well in an effort to put himself more on the kid’s level. “Damian, listen to me. Yes, there’s the off chance Bruce might take in another orphan, but those chances are slim – practically next to none. And he would never, _never_ , do it as a means to spite you. No matter how pissed off you manage to make him.”

“Mother would,” Damian spat.

Dick blinked. “Talia’s having another kid?” His brow furrowed. “Is that what this is all about? Oh boy.” He straightened and leaned his elbows on his knees, twisting his head to make sure he could look Damian in the eye. “Damian, when parents decide to have another child, it’s not because they want to replace you, but because they love you and—”

“Forget it.” Damian stood. He needed air. Now. “This is stupid.”

Dick followed suit, one fist clutching the blanket. “I don’t find it stupid.”

“Well  _I_  do,” Damian snapped. “Just forget I said anything at all.”

A hand gripping his arm stopped him from walking away and unfortunately his withering glare wasn’t enough to dissuade Dick.

“Damian, listen, whatever Talia told you, she’s lying. You’re her firstborn and will always have a place in her heart because of that. Don’t ask me how I know, it’s just a general knowledge thing about mothers,” Dick said when Damian’s mouth began to open. “And no matter how much you believe you stole Tim’s position as Robin and are his replacement, you’re not. Just like he’s not Jason’s replacement and Jason wasn’t my replacement.”

Damian made it a point to snort. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“Nothing can ever replace you, you know that, right?” Dick asked, ignoring the statement.

“I’m flattered you find my ego to be that large.”

Dick frowned. “Fine, Robins aside, nothing can ever replace you,” he mended.

Damian found himself falling silent as the uncomfortable burning behind his eyes abruptly returned.

Some part of his emotions must have shown on his face because the hand on his arm slipped up around his shoulders. “Damian?”

Swallowing thickly, Damian sent a silent apology to his mother. “It’s Drake's child.”

He brought his glare away from the floor to watch the implications of his admittance sink in.

When they did, Dick’s voice was barely above a whisper. “…What?”

+ 

_“You need to tell him.”_

Damian had no intention of telling anyone.

_“It’s his child!”_

He didn’t care.

_“Look, I understand you told me this in confidence, but Tim has a right to know!”_

Damian wasn’t convinced. His father had gone eleven years without knowing he existed and was informed out of simple convenience. Why couldn’t the same standard be held towards Drake?

The look Dick gave him upon voicing such thoughts made Damian even more aware of his life’s shortcomings.

-

Cradling a small coffee between his hands, Damian was still at a loss of how he had been talked into this. Normally, he couldn’t be talked into anything he was set against, and yet here he was, waiting in some nondescript café, doing his best to ignore the constant glances the barista kept sending him.

-

_“I get how you feel.”_

Damian highly doubted that, but the fact that Dick was trying so hard counted for something.

_“However it happened, you can’t blame Tim.”_

_“Watch me,”_  Damian snarled.

-

The all-out brawl that had followed Damian’s first attempt at talking to Drake might have been his fault. It confirmed that any issues he had with Drake were doomed to be settled, but never fully resolved. While talking to Dick had helped calm his emotional turmoil, it took a physical outlet to actually help him feel better.

-

_“This kid isn’t your replacement.”_

Actually, he was. His mother told him so years ago.

_“She couldn’t have meant that.”_

It was Tim’s child. The irony was pretty damn hard to ignore.

_“Okay, let me rephrase. Your brother can never replace your spot in your mother’s heart. The same way Bruce can’t ever replace your mother and I can’t ever replace Bruce. The same way you and Tim won’t be able to replace each other for me, no matter how hard you both seem to try.”_

-

It was several hours after sunrise and despite being dead exhausted after last night’s patrol, he refused to change the meeting time to give Drake the pleasure of recovering from his own all-nighter. While this move stemmed from the fact that he still despised the situation Tim’s actions had put him in, Damian figured this true call for peace should be adequately reflected in his choice of location. He hated coffee.

A small, cool breeze ruffled his hair as the entrance door swung open. Several seconds later, Tim slid into the unoccupied chair across from Damian, dropping his backpack on the floor before bothering to make eye contact.

The obvious dislike Tim once again harbored for him would normally fill Damian contempt, but now all he felt was a twinge of embarrassment. He was clueless on how to fix things now that they actually needed to be fixed.

Noticing the lack of sharp, calculating clarity in Tim’s eyes, Damian pushed his untouched coffee forward.

Tim merely stared at it for a moment before turning to signal the barista that he would like to order.

“It’s not poisoned this time,” Damian sneered, taking back the drink, fully aware that his own refusal to taste it wouldn’t help to alleviate suspicions.

Tim ignored him in favor of asking for a black coffee, politely declining the request if he would like any breakfast this morning with a charming smile.

The smile was gone by the time he looked back at Damian.

Damian met it with a frown. “I’m debating on being surprised you even bothered to show, considering your current attitude.” Secretly, he was at a loss of how to actually handle the situation. Normally when they were forced together, Tim would start off with a somewhat open attitude.

“I’m here because Bruce insisted,” Tim answered shortly as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms.

Damian froze. Did his father know? Better question:  Did his father know because he’s Batman or because Richard told him?

“Oh.” He decided to stick with keeping his faith in Richard. “Looks like he thinks you’re being stupid about the whole thing.”

“ _I’m_  being stupid about the whole thing?!” That certainly got a reaction out of Tim. “Damian, you tried to  _kill_  me last time! Twice!”

“Once!” Damian hissed in amendment.

“Normal people  _talk_  when they have a problem with someone!” Tim plowed on, leaning forward in his seat to physically restrain himself from raising his voice. “ _You_ , however, are completely  _inhuman_ —”

Tim was cut off from his rant as his drink was placed before him, forcing him to lean back and take a breath. Damian silently watched as he ran a hand through his hair and visibly tried to calm down.

Looking down at his own cup of coffee, Damian nudged it back and forth between his hands. The ‘inhuman’ comment kind of stung considering the number of emotions he had been going through recently.

“Do you really think I’m…” Damian tried to think of an acceptable description that encompassed Drake’s obvious feelings for him, “evil?”

Tim blinked. He obviously wasn’t expecting such an approach and his shoulders slumped as the fight left him. For a long moment, he did nothing but tap his forefinger against the tabletop in thought.

“I think you’re a product of how you were raised,” he answered at last. “But at the same time, you’re a lot like Bruce in so many ways that I don’t see your personality being that much different if he had taken you in sooner.”

Damian stared at Tim’s hands as he slipped into his own thoughts. Drake didn’t quite answer his question, but he did bring up some valid points. Once again, Damian found himself wondering if telling Drake about his child was the best idea. Would he think the boy to be evil with his ingrained killer instincts? Would he think over what would be best for the boy before charging in and ripping him away from his home to ‘save’ him?

“The first time I left my mother to join Father—” Damian hesitated, not really sure where to go with this. He raised his eyes to meet Tim’s. “—it was nerve-wracking.”

Tim snorted. “It’s okay to admit you were terrified.”

Damian’s scowl was the only acknowledgement he allowed for that statement. “My upbringing may have been unorthodox, but I never doubted for a moment that Mother loved me. Father, on the other hand, has taken me in and is raising me out of a sense of responsibility.”

Tim straightened, clearly offended on Bruce’s behalf. “That may have been true at first—”

“It’s still true.” There was no malice in Damian’s voice. “He’s still raising me, and I’m still his responsibility.”

“Yes,” Tim acquiesced, “but there’s  _more_  than that, now.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “I’ve done nothing to earn his love.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not there,” Tim argued. “Love is something that just happens. Okay, yes, you may have remained estranged from Bruce if you never chose to stay with him, but you didn’t.”

Something clicked within Damian’s brain. “What?”

Tim shook his head. “I’m not going to tell you what I’ve managed to psychoanalyzed about your personality when it comes to Bruce. I refuse to make myself an open target for yet another attack.”

Damian’s mind was racing. It had been  _his_  choice to stay with his father. Bruce may have known about him, but it had ultimately been his own decision on which parent to be with. Logically, the same rules would apply to his little brother. Which parent he wanted to be with, what path he wanted to take in life, it was all completely  _his_  choice. Meaning talking to Drake was completely pointless seeing as how he had no say in the matter.

Pushing his chair back, Damian stood and fished out his wallet.

“Why do I get the feeling I’ve completely missed out on whatever point this meeting was supposed to make?” Tim asked warily.

“You’ve made quite a mess of things, being unable to keep your penis in your pants,” Damian scolded, tossing several bills on the table.

“ _What?_ ”

“When I’m done handling this, you’re going to owe me.”

“What do you mean I can’t keep my penis in my pants?” Tim demanded, digging through his bag for his own wallet.

“I think you’re smart enough to figure it out. By the way, I have a little brother.” A malicious smirk crossed Damian’s face at the way Tim froze. It took a good couple of seconds for the color to completely drain away from his complexion. “Funny how that works out, don’t you think?” Side-stepping away from the table, Damian slipped his hands in his pockets. “Do me a favor and tell Father I’m taking care of things. And make sure Richard is there when you tell him.”

Ignoring Drake’s pleas for him to wait and demands that this talk wasn’t over, Damian headed out the door and mounted his motorbike. He had a plane to catch.

-

“ _Where are you?_ ”

“It’s called ‘soul-searching’, Grayson, I’m sure you’ve experienced it before.”

“ _This line is secure, so I’d appreciate a real answer._ ”

Damian fell thoughtfully silent. “Do you trust me?”

“ _Most of the time._ ”

Damian tried to be offended at the answer, but gave up as he realized it was both truthful and valid. “I want to talk with my brother before he’s tainted with whatever war he ends up in when he’s older.”

“ _Fair enough. Do you have any intention of making things easy for Tim? He’s a bit frantic…_ ”

“No.” Damian gazed out the window to stare at the clouds down below. “But if my brother’s being raised the way I was, anything bad I have to say about Drake will fall on deaf ears.”

There was a short period of silence.

“ _Are you sure you’re ready for something like this?_ ”

“You said Drake was frantic?”

“ _Jesus, Damian, that is completely the wrong reason to be doing something like this._ ”

Damian shrugged as he leaned back in his seat. “If the means justify the end…”

Grayson’s laugh brought a smile to his face. “ _Stay safe, alright? If Bruce and I can’t talk Tim out of this state, you have a two day headstart at most._ ”

“That’s more than adequate.”

Damian ended the call and tucked the phone away. He wasn’t sure where this sudden determination had come from, but figured it was fine to go with it. After all, he had an excellent mentor on how to be a big brother.

_The End._

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @batreyn  
> Twitter: @writerReyn
> 
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